Wake Me Up In The Morning
by Lita Pern
Summary: Now a 1800WhereRU crossover. Rated so for my constant use of h311 and d4n
1. Default Chapter

AN: Hey everyone! Well, it seems that Watching Your Language failed miserably, and now lays abandoned in the underbelly of Fanfiction.net, so I started my new fic, which I hope will be slightly more popular. It's called Waking Up To You, and I hope that it will be somewhat interesting, and not a real snoozer.  
  
Please point out any awkward word choices, this isn't my first language, even though I've spoken it since I was like two, as my mom can't speak Italian very well, and my dad only spoke Italian and sign language when I was little, and I guess I spoke English at the same time, just not as well, since Nonno and my cousins and stuff all spoke Italian. My family is "just off the boat" ^_^. Back to the point, I am not as comfortable in English as I am in Italian or ASL, so point out any odd word choices. Thanks.  
  
Hi, Gorbash! Fireblade! Anyone else! Hee hee hee.  
  
Oh yeah, I don't own this stuff. Wish I did. Don't tho. Okay. Bye.  
  
They were soft, and oh, so comforting, pressed against my own. I could never, never forget the feeling of those lips on mine. They weren't warm, but soft, they were the softest lips I had ever felt in my life. My eyes fluttered open slowly. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, wearing the same clothes he always wore, and looking nothing less than hot in them.  
  
He pulled back slightly, his eyes opening to reveal they're inky blackness. "Are you awake now, Suze?" he asked silkily.  
  
"No," I answered sexily. "I'm still dreaming." I knew I was. I had to be. Jesse never would wake me up that way, no matter how much I wanted him to. I opened my eyes suddenly and sat up, looking around my room. I knew I was dreaming! So why am I so disappointed?  
  
No Jesse. He never showed up anymore. This is getting depressing. I slid out from under my warm sheets into my slightly cool room. It's never cold in the mornings, since Jesse always closes my windows. It's nice to know some things never change. Even if those things include the fact that he's never going to wake me up by kissing me. No matter how nice that would be.  
  
I sighed and got dressed in my bathroom, just in case he decided to pop by for school. Which he did. I jumped as I heard, "Susannah!" I swung open the door. "What?" I asked, since he looked unusually pale.  
  
"Querida, there are news cameras at the school!"  
  
I raised my eyebrow, a gesture he usually gave me. "They're probably just doing a documentary or something. Why are you so scared?"  
  
"Because Paul and Father Dominic are being interviewed. querida, it's a report on mediators. They wanted to have Slater interview me!" He looked enraged, his face just saying, "Those news reporters wanted to get Paul Slater to talk to me?!?"  
  
I walked over calmly, despite the fact that my heart was beating faster than a million miles a minute. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close. "Calm down," I whispered to him. "It'll be okay. It's gonna be fine." Maybe it'll be fine. I mean, they might think Paul is a psychotic young child.  
  
"I hope so," he replied, kissing my ear. "I need to get back to help Father Dominic. When you get to school, try to avoid the reporters. I would bet Paul has told the reporters about you as well."  
  
"Susie!" Mom called. Mom?  
  
Jesse dematerialized right when Mom burst into my room. "Honey, I just got a call to do a report on a situation at your school." I felt the blood rush from my face. "Oh, yeah?" I whispered, startled.  
  
"Susie, they say it's students who can speak to the dead. Your name is on the list. and there are only two names." She looked me straight in the eye, but I couldn't look back. My eyes darted to the carpet. "Susannah, I-why didn't you tell me?"  
  
I didn't say anything.  
  
"Oh, Susie," she cried, pulling me into her arms. "Your father. he always was dealing with those ghosts! That day he went out jogging, I knew, I knew it wasn't a heart attack, oh Susie, please stop, I, I don't want to see." She trailed off, sobbing heavily.  
  
"Mom. could Dad see ghosts too?"  
  
"And what do they do? He helps them his whole life, and what do they do? They. they killed him, Susie, stop, please, before." she continued inaudibly by the end of it all.  
  
I could feel the tears start to flood into my eyes, my nose started to tingle, a sure sign to the start of a sob fest. "Mom," I cried into her blouse, surely destroying the silk. "Mom, I can't, I can't just stop," I said. "I don't want to, either, Mom. I have to go now." And I grabbed my backpack, and walked to the car. Since Mom had a story there, we went together. Maybe, maybe if I went to school with a reporter they wouldn't try to mob me.  
  
Didn't work. It took all of two seconds to get microphones stuck in my face. But Mom, Mom was totally cool in action! She stood up out of the car in one motion, very gracefully, and said simply, "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, my daughter is a minor. It is against the law to speak to her without my expressed written permission." She actually had to shout this, before she asked me to introduce her to Father Dominic, so he could refuse an interview with her.  
  
Wow, Mom. She was good. Then it hit me.  
  
Everything that went on in New York, all the people who had died, Dad knew about, because his wife was a reporter. Mom became a reporter when I was just a year old. One year! She had a degree in political science, but she was helping my dad find out about the people he was helping! I smiled up at her, and continued to walk by her side.  
  
Paul Slater came up to me. "Hi, Suze," he said sweetly. "Is this your mom? Hello, Mrs. Ackerman."  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, looking at me incredulously.  
  
"Paul Slater."  
  
"Oh!" Mom took out her pad and pen. "Now, you sold out my daughter and yourself, despite the fact that the Mediator's Creed, as written in 1263 by German Mediator Ludwig von Huesser strictly forbids such actions. Why?"  
  
Paul blanched. "Me-mediator's Creed?" he repeated.  
  
"Yes, and you sold out my daughter, let's not forget that part." Mom looked at him mischievously. "Oh, but you say you're a shifter! Surely you know all about the Mediator's Creed, if you are able to divine the difference between Mediators and Shifters."  
  
"Is that Jesse?" Mom asked, gesturing to him with her pen.  
  
"Mom?!?" I cried. "You can see them too?"  
  
"Of course I can," she said slowly. "I. I thought we went over this this morning."  
  
I stepped back. "I thought that was Dad?"  
  
"No, no, they killed him, but he couldn't see them. I could. You're father, he was an innocent bystander. He helped me, he said he was their lawyer, he knew, of course, but only I could see them. That's why I was so worried when you showed me the dead mouse. do you remember that? I thought that maybe you just happened to be holding it, and didn't even realize what you were doing, but, well, I just assumed you didn't know."  
  
She pointed her pen at Jesse again. "Now is that Jesse de Silva?"  
  
I nodded slowly. "Hola, Jesse, ¿comò está Usted?" she asked in her perfect Spanish, as usual.  
  
"Bien," he breathed in shock. "¿Y Usted?"  
  
"Bien, ahora, empecemos."  
  
AN: Okay, that was that. thought I'd take a different spin on the whole, "I bet Suze's Dad was a mediator thing!" I hear that a lot, so, yeah, that's that.  
  
Translations: "Hola, Jesse, ¿comò está Usted?" = Hello, Jesse, how are you, (formal, respectfully)?  
  
"Bien," = Good.  
  
"¿Y Usted?" = And yourself (formal, respectfully)?  
  
"Bien, ahora, empecemos." = Fine, now, let's begin. 


	2. First Period

Don't own this, never will. I wrote this at midnight. I figured I had time, may as well, ne? Hi Gorbash! Fireblade! Luna! Onto the story!  
  
"No, I don't know where Elvis is," I said, pushing through the kids blocking my way to first period. Mom, yes, M-o-m Mom, had wandered off with Jesse, speaking Spanish. I could swear he was blushing as she led him to Father Dom's office. That got me pissed: what was she saying to make him blush?!?  
  
"What about Heather?" Kelly asked, quietly enough to get the attention of everyone in class.  
  
I guess I looked nervous and uneasy, because she demanded, "What about Heather?"  
  
Paul chose to answer, as if he knew what he was talking about. "Heather. wasn't that the chick you exorcised?"  
  
"How did you know about that?" I almost screamed.  
  
"Father Dominic told me."  
  
And I had gone and thought I was pissed off before. "He what?!?"  
  
"What did he say again? Oh yeah, 'Suze, she has a tendency to over- react. Take Heather, a voodoo exorcism, I mean, really.' That was it, I think."  
  
Kelly burst into tears. "You exorcised my best friend? What would you think if I did that?" she cried. "What if I went out and exorcised your boyfriend?"  
  
"Umm, not a good idea," Paul butt in. "Trust me. She, and he, gets very pissed."  
  
Everyone was staring at him now. "Oh, come on, he was dead. For 150 years. It was about time he moved on."  
  
"Shut the hell up," I scowled. "He didn't deserve what you did. You were cruel and heartless. You took away the man I loved because you were jealous. And then, as if that weren't enough, you sicced his dead fiancée on me!"  
  
He grinned, pleased by his own past cleverness (which had resulted in a broken nose for him, but he forgot about that, apparently). "Suze," Debbie said slowly. "You dated a dead guy?"  
  
I looked to CeeCee for help. She stood and walked over to me. Calmly, she ran a hand through her hair, clasped them in front of her, and burst into laughter suddenly. I was in shock. "I knew it! Jesse is a ghost, isn't he? That's how he held Paul under the hot tub!"  
  
"Class! Sit down!" Mr. Walden cried, throwing his chalk at the door. It passed through a chest of a man in a white billowy shirt and tight black trousers. He rolled his eyes, picked up the chalk, and put it back in the teacher's hand. The class were all silent.  
  
"Hey there, Jesse. How's it been going?" Paul asked, grinning.  
  
"Worse since you meddled with it," he said, folding his strong arms over his chest. I stood up, smacking Paul on the back of the head.  
  
Jesse smiled at me. I never thought he would be so. so giddy at the whole Suze-hitting-Paul thing, but he was. He was actually grinning like a bobcat. If bobcats really grin, I've never seen one. "The Father wants to see you, querida," he said, holding back laughter.  
  
"Querida?" Paul asked, looking like he was gonna laugh himself. "Sweetheart? You call Suze 'sweetheart'?"  
  
"Don't feel left out, I have a name for you too." Jesse looked smug. "However, I fear I cannot say it in the presence of a lady." He took my hand and pulled me forward, kissing me on the cheek as he dragged me out the door. The whole class followed, and I don't know if you have ever tried to stop a whole class from leaving, but apparently it was too much for Mr. Walden. The class ran after us.  
  
"Why are they following us?" he asked.  
  
"Paul told them we were dating. They were intrigued." I shrugged, trying to act as if Paul's statement hadn't meant anything. I'd hoped, but it didn't happen, that it would calm him enough to stop the lockers from shaking.  
  
Kelly's clones shrieked at the loud clanking of the metal. "Stop it," I commanded. "You're scaring the class."  
  
"They shouldn't be following anyway," he muttered, lacing his arm in mine. I had a sickening feeling that he did this because Paul was trying to catch up to us. Paul caught up to us.  
  
"De Silva," he whispered, then continued to whisper in Jesse's ear.  
  
That's how the ambulances came to the school, battling the news vans to get access to Paul.  
  
AN: Okay, short, weird, and not much of a chapter. Next one will be at least 10 word pages long. Look forward to that. Deal with this for now, ok? ^_^ 


	3. The Crossover Encounter with FBI Peeps

AN: Okay, so I admit it. Them. I'm admitting two things. First off, that I haven't updated in ages. All I can say is that I blame television. It shouldn't be so enjoyable, and the International Channel shouldn't have anime on all the time, because it's just too tempting! It's like offering whiskey to an alcoholic—how is a pathetic little otaku like me supposed to resist a *Tenchi Muyo Marthon*?!? It's just not right. Second off, I didn't intend for this to be a crossover, but hey, it happened, and I think I've done a fine job of it too, even though I usually hate Crossover fics because they're tacky. But for some reason, 1800WhereRU and The Mediator are meant to be together, and work very well. Neither of which I own, by the way, and suing me won't due me any good, cuz even if I had money, I would spend it on moving out of Alaska, not on buying the rights to Meg Cabot books, so you wouldn't get a dime.  
  
And, of course, my shout-outs to all the people who like my work, and a brief note: The final chapter of Welcome Home Jesse, well, I wrote it, like I write most things, in Italian before translating it to English. And I accidentally forgot to translate it. Which is why the spelling and grammar is so poor, because I didn't check those either. And let's face it, Microsoft Word Italian packs are like, $50, so I'm not buying it. Okay. I'll translate it someday. Over the rainbow. Maybe.  
  
As long as the International Channel never again shows Ah! My Goddess. bqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqb  
  
It took exactly three hours for the FBI to locate me and fly out to California. Right in the middle of third period the door creaked open, and there stood two people. One was a man who looked like he stepped out of the XMen ("You'll never win, Charles. The war between mutants and men has already begun" (three stepbrothers, remember?)). The second was a woman who looked like a high schooler—she must have come on her off day, because she was in jeans and a t-shirt. She had short, dark hair, which she was currently running a hand through.  
  
"Never again will I use product," she muttered, only to be elbowed by the XMan.  
  
Sister Maria looked towards the door, her tiny wiry frame quivering in fear. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" she squeaked out.  
  
"Gentlemen?" the woman asked, furrowing her eyebrows. "I know I have short hair, but really."  
  
"I mean, sir, ma'am?"  
  
The XMan stepped forward, taking out a sheet of paper from his coat. "Is there a Susannah Simon here?" he asked, reading off the paper.  
  
"That's me," I said, waving my hand. Then, like an idiot, as if the past three hours had never happened, I added, "Why?"  
  
The girl smiled. "We just wanna talk to you. We heard a few rumors, and want to see if they're true. No biggie, you don't have to come if you don't want to. Of course, I'm missing a date with Rob for this, so you better want to."  
  
"Rob? Didn't you tell me that Mr. Wilkins wouldn't date you because you're still a minor?" the XMan asked.  
  
Ah. So the reason she looked like a high-schooler is because she is a high-schooler.  
  
"Yes, well, I'm very persuasive," she winked. "And you better not arrest him, we haven't done anything, we're still good citizens." I lifted up my bag and began to walk over to her. She grinned even wider. "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?" she asked, looking up at the XMan.  
  
"I'll go ask Father Dom," I answered, walking past her and swishing my hair.  
  
"Oh, God, she's a preppy," the girl groaned, following me.  
  
I looked over my shoulder. "No, I'm not. I just like to keep my hair looking good, thank you very much. I"—I slammed into something, falling backwards.  
  
The girl ran up to me. "Are you alright?" she cried. "Do you need an ambulance?!?"  
  
"Queirida, you should really watch where you are going." Jesse, too, was sprawled out on the floor, then started to gather up my papers. I guess the floating notebooks must have really terrified the girl, because she screamed. Mr. XMan put his hand over her mouth.  
  
"Quiet, Jess, you'll wake the dead."  
  
"I think I'm woken up now, thank you." (AN: Shameless death pun!) I laughed, taking my things from him and shoving them back into my bag.  
  
"Besides," Mr. XMan said, "Susannah sees and touches dead people. She probably just ran into a ghost."  
  
I nodded, smiling at Jesse and trying to look my cutest. Jesse frowned. "Did he just say that that girl is named Jesse?"  
  
"Is your name Jesse?" I asked to the girl.  
  
She pried away Mr. XMan's hand. "No, Jess. Jessica Mastrianni. Why?"  
  
"Oh," Jesse said, standing up, and then holding out his hands to help me do the same.  
  
"Nothing," I said. "Oh! Father D! These people are here to talk to me. The tall guy is holding a gun, so I thought I'd speak with them. Anywhere private we can go?" My mother stepped into the hallway too. "Oh, hey, Mom."  
  
"Mrs. Simon?" the Mr. XMan asked now. "We'd like for you to be present, if possible. We can't use the information if you aren't. I'm Dr. Cyrus Krantz from the Special Operatives Bureau of the FBI, and this is one of my agents, Special Agent Jess Mastrianni. Mind, your daughter isn't in trouble, we just want to speak to her."  
  
Mom looked at him, then at the teenage girl beside him. "All right, but show me your badges."  
  
They both pulled out badges, Jess from a chain on her neck, and Dr. Krantz from his wallet. They had this bored look on their faces, as if people question their authority all the time. "Is there somewhere we can speak privately?"  
  
"My office is available." Father D began to walk towards his office until Dr. Krantz stopped him. "Unfortunately, it's against policy for us to discuss such matters in front of anyone but the family and the family's lawyer during discussions of this manner. Unless you want us to be alone in your office, I'd suggest another location, Father."  
  
"Ah," Father D said, as if, once again, this happens all the time. "Well, there is Classroom 14. They say it's haunted. Perhaps you could ask him to wait outside? He'll listen to Suze."  
  
I looked around to realize that Jesse was gone. "IsthatJesse'sroomFatherD?!?" I asked quickly. "Let's go there!" I sprinted off to the west wing, with two FBI agents and my mother in tow. My mother was asking them questions as they walked, why'd they join the FBI, how long they'd been in, why they needed me...  
  
I threw open the door to see Jesse and my father, yes, my own dad, having a talk while hovering by the window. "Dad!" I yelled.  
  
"Peter!" Mom cried. "Are you staying here now? Why aren't you haunting your mother like you said you would?"  
  
"My mother's boring," he answered. "All she does is knit. Try to scare an old woman while she's knitting? Impossible. Besides, I always swore I'd talk to Suze's boyfriends. Remember?" My face turned bright red.  
  
My mom just looked angry. "Peter, leave Jesse alone. You already spoke to him. I thought we agreed he is a nice boy. Now go home, we need to speak in private."  
  
Jess looked at Dr. Krantz and whispered something to him. He shook his head.  
  
"Fine, I'll go," Dad said, disappearing.  
  
"Jesse, you need to go too." I looked at the floor. He was just about to disappear when I said, "Oh, he's gone now, yup, no longer in the room. Now let's talk."  
  
In case any of you have forgotten in the past three paragraphs, my mom sees dead people too. Which explains why she said, "Very funny, Suze. We'll see you in a few minutes, Jesse, we just need to talk to these FBI agents."  
  
"What's the FBI?" he asked.  
  
"I'll tell you later," I answered, looking at the floor. He disappeared.  
  
Dr. Krantz sat at the teacher's desk, Jess sat on the teacher's desk, and I sat on the cot that was laid out under the window. Mom remained standing.  
  
"So, let me be blunt. Agent Mastrianni is a psychic"-- "Hey," she said, waving--"and because of her extraordinary talent of finding missing persons, she is a member of our team. There are others, but you will be working mostly with Agent Mastrianni, if you choose to join our force. We've looked at your records, and I personally think you'd make an excellent partner for her. You both are very hard to break. So, in light of this, I'd like to offer you a job at the Federal Bureau of Investigations."  
  
"I can't quit school," I said quickly. "No way she'd go for that." I pointed to Mom.  
  
"I don't miss much school because of this," Jess said, shrugging. "Mostly I'll work on weekends, or if the case is for a child, I'll just work from home. You know, quick phone call, I'm done."  
  
Dr. Krantz looked at her, then at me. "You'll be working on weekends, over the summer, breaks, that kind of thing. We'll only pull you out of school if it's absolutely necessary. Besides, it's excellent pay, along with free travel all over the country."  
  
Jess snorted. "Yeah, free trips. To beautiful militia compounds!"  
  
"I remember telling you not to go barging in on that militia compound, Jess. Don't go blaming that on me. And if you recall, I was the only one with any sort of injury."  
  
"Because Rob's concussion was nothing," she shot back.  
  
"I meant in the bureau," he muttered. "In any case, you won't be dealing with anything as dangerous as Agent Mastrianni, because she goes rampaging into these things when we tell her not to. Besides, she was dealing with the living. You'll be dealing with the dead, so the risk factor will be decreased." At this point, my mother and I burst out laughing.  
  
My mother had tears in her eyes when she finally managed to sputter out, "The dead are as bad, if not worse, than the living. You can't really injure a dead person, not for long anyway. I have had seventy-three broken bones from cadavers, Dr. Krantz. But, I don't think it's anything Susie couldn't handle. She's built as tough as me with the brains of her father."  
  
"Ah," Dr. Krantz said, swallowing loudly. "Well, in any case, we'll pay for your vehicle and its maintenance and for you to purchase appropriate gear and work wear, in addition to your salary. Also, you will get the pride of serving your country, and should you perform well, a guaranteed career path once you graduate from college. You'll be working with gifted individuals like yourself, and you will travel around the country, and possibly the world. Now, we are headquartered in Indiana, so you'll have to fly there once a month to check in with our personnel director, Agent Alan Johnson. We have a contract drawn up, setting your salary at $50,000 dollars a year, until you graduate from college and work with us full time. At that point, your salary will double every ten years. Sign on the dotted line if you're interested, and Mrs. Simon, we'll require your signature as well."  
  
"It's Ackerman," my mom said as she took the pen. "Do you want to do this, Susie? It sounds like a wonderful opportunity to put your skills to work."  
  
I nodded. Mom signed, then passed the pen to me. I grinned madly as I signed my name in a big, loopy font. Jess ran up and hugged me. "Welcome to the team!" she cried. "You'll love it. Say, do you like motorcycles?"  
  
bqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbqbq  
  
My first day in Indiana was the next day. I flew on the private FBI jet, sitting next to Jess. She had her feet propped up on the table in front of us, chatting away about how wonderful her boyfriend Rob was. "He's got these killer eyes," she laughed. "They're the color of ice, I swear-- and he's got these huge muscles."  
  
"Sure," I nodded, "but there's no way he's as cute as Jesse."  
  
"I doubt it," Jess said, crossing her arms.  
  
So I sat there, describing everything about Jesse, and she admitted that it must be nice to have a boyfriend who wasn't on probation, and I replied that it must be nice to have a boyfriend who's alive. She spat out her coke. "He's _dead_?"  
  
As soon as the plane landed, Jess ran over to a motorcycle parked right on the tarmac, hugging it and wiping off the dust with her handkerchief. "This is my bike," she said to me, lovingly stroking the Harley Davidson emblem.  
  
And there, on another motorcycle right beside that, sat the most gorgeous boy alive. Jesse being the most gorgeous guy ever, of course. This boy leaned over and said, "Can I get some of that?"  
  
Jess jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. "Rob!" she cried, kissing him. He seemed to enjoy it, too, if the way his arms were draped around her waist was any indication. Dr. Krantz came up beside me. "They do that," he stated, as if warning me about a malfunction.  
  
"Okay," I answered slowly.  
  
His cell phone rang loudly. He answered it on the first ring. "Krantz. Yes... Yes... all ready?.. I see. I'll tell them both." He flipped it shut.  
  
"Suze, Jess, you have-- JESS!" Jess broke away and looked at Dr. Krantz. "You two have some work to do." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------Today's Italian Vocab Word (parola Italiana di vocabolario di oggi):  
  
Fantasma=Ghost, phantom, death spirit. 


End file.
